Oh thank doG

When the Super Bowl ended early in the year, I hardly thought twice about it. I’d had half a year of football to sate my hunger. Surely, I’d had my fill.

How wrong I was. I barely lasted through March Madness before I started getting the shakes. By the time summer rolled around, I was on full-out football withdrawl.

I don’t know what happened--I wasn’t always this way. Once, I was a reasonable, sane football fan who’d casually follow a few teams and enjoy watching most games when it was convenient.

Sometime within the past two years, something snapped deep inside me. I went from observing the sport to obsessing, from casually commenting to making lewd remarks about the referee’s mother.

I don’t like what I’ve become, but I’m not sure that I can change it. I feel like the Hulk. Normally I’m an easygoing, fairly timid and, I like to think. reasonable person.

But when Mark watch football, Mark SMASH!

I’m so desperate, I’ve lowered myself to watching preseason NFL games, like an addict licking coke residue off a toilet seat. This is truly the lowest of the low.

Luckily, my salvation is closing in fast. Saturday, I head for Atlanta for the UGA season opener against Boise State. We’re going to stomp them into the ground.

I’m going to be like a kid in a candy store. Or like the Hulk on crack in an antique china shop.

I’m going to scare small children, make a scene, get my fix, and probably drool a little. The nice thing is, that’s all I ever really do in Atlanta anyway. I can’t wait.

Suck it Broncos, and GO DAWGS!